bama mamma
august 2

Los Angeles

After a few miles down highway 72, just before the overpass, I found the street for Veux Carre. There were quite a few cars in the lot and more coming in, a good Friday night turn-out. I paid my five bucks and entered into some of Rocket City's gay life.

And what a treat. I was like a kid in a zoo- I mean candy store- strolling around gawking at all the homosexuals. Well, I couldn't be sure they were all team players, but it fascinated me that the place even existed. Talk about jaded, myopic, condescending, patronizing big city attitude! But I felt a little of that same wonder when I first read about gay people, except minus the teenage angst and trips to the psychologist. At the risk of sounding more rude, I found the club charming.

There were people of all different shapes, sizes, colors, dykes on dates, guys who looked like they just escaped from the office, dancing queens, tranny divas, even a gay hillbilly with ZZ-Top beard action (who later struck up a conversation with me in the adjacent urinal).

I saw an interesting guy with muscles, he glanced at me then disappeared. Later I saw another interesting guy, smaller, with a handsome face, lean and tight. He didn't seem to notice me, so I watched the Veux Review, a drag extravaganza.

I couldn't remember all the names, and even though I missed a drag queen do a flip during one of her numbers, I still had a great time. There was even a straight girl, Amanda Black, in the show. She had that kind of puffin look, an awful lot like a young Mrs. Danvers from 'Rebecca', except in sequins and feathers (mairbou, not sea bird) and she danced up a storm.

The theme was wedding, and during some song when the bride and groom were about to be blessed by the waiter priest, out comes Bronzie DiMarco synching "It Should Have Been Me" and cracking a whip. I'd later learn such antics paled in comparison to this damsel's real life adventures.

After taking a pee break, where the hillybilly chatted me up about the joys of relieving a bladder, I returned to learn that I had just missed Miss minor diva doing her flip, and decided I had enough so I wandered around to cruise. I ran into the little cute guy and small talked him, but he looked bored so I wandered some more and saw the muscley guy go through a door I hadn't seen before.

To make a long story short, the three of us ended up going back to my hotel room, and I had to laugh at myself, the supposed experienced one, just earlier trying to decide which guy to go home with and how to drop the other. It was their idea for a party.

After a very hot session, not only because of the company but because my air conditioning exhaled nothing remotely cool, big guy had to head back to Nashville, and little guy, a musician in two orchestras, wanted to hang out so we slept. The next day he took me to breakfast and we headed to his friend Greg's where he was staying until his teaching assignment was over.

That night I was so tired I just stayed in; didn't feel like another four mile hike to Veux Carre, meaning I missed their version of 'Grease'. The next day little guy picked me up and we spent the day together, walked in the park, went to the art museum, and he dropped me back at the hotel, as I had some writing to do. That night with Greg he picked me up, and we went to Veux Carre, where I learned a little more than I was prepared to know about one of the girls.

Also, Amanda Black, Mrs. Danver's illegitimate grandchild, was not a straight girl, she was a 'Made In Form' if you know what I mean. Still, with her curves and vivacious style, she was a crowd favorite. New York so-called queens could do well to emulate her. Speaking of New York street, when Bronzie DiMarco stormed the stage, Greg let out a gasp and a laugh.

"I saw her beat a man with a shovel," he began, as Bronzie worked the crowd for tips. She practically climbed into each and every pocket within striking distance.

"She got taken out to a swamp by her drug dealer," the topic was now right in front of us, saw Greg and broke into a million watt smile. Being a hairdresser has some priveledges.

"She got taken out to a swamp by her dealers and shot and left for dead," I was going to ask about alligators but I think I now know why there weren't any.

"She was left for dead, but she clawed her way out of that swamp and crawled back to town. I don't know what disco song she had going through her head to give her the strength to do it, but she crawled into town, found the hospital, and found Jesus," I stood there frozen with amazement. The courage, the determination, the 'I Will Survive'.

"Then the police found her and threw her in jail."

I stepped back a few steps, I was in the presense of a legend. Later when I went to use another men's room, and saw Bronzie at the urinal, all alone, dress hiked up, I respectfully backed away.

I had my friend drop me off at the hotel and I really just wanted to be alone, so we said our goodbye's, as I was sure my truck would be ready the next day. I conjured flowery thoughts so I wouldn't dream about scraping my belly on the asphalt singing "I'm Every Woman".

Monday morning, I packed up everything but paid for another day at the hotel, as I didn't expect them to be finished much before closing time. I got a page an hour later saying the truck was ready and the hotel clerk took pity on my poor sense of timing and refunded me a whole six dollars out of thirty three. Like out of a movie, the same taxi driver picked me up, neatly drawing my last minutes in Huntsville to a close.

Luckily the money out of my savings transferred in time to my checking for me to pay for my clutch job, otherwise I might have had to return to the Vieux Carre to make some tips of my own. I southern drawled out of the Bible Belt; there were so many traffic lights between Huntsville and Memphis that I was eager to get back on an evil interstate.

I kept my eyes especially open in Memphis as I had been told at one of the KOA's that it was full of trash, and she didn't mean garbage. The city did not live up to my hopes, then again what could compare to The Creature from the Black Lagoon.

I sped through Arkansas, where at one gas station I swear there must have been a cast from a porn set taking a break, these guys were hot. That didn't make the state smell any less like a burning trash (the garbage) heap. The whole state, and when I asked about it no one detected anything unusual. I bed down that night in Oklahoma, and would be extra super careful driving through Texas, still didn't know if my statute of limitations had run out yet.

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